


Lay me down in your coffin to rest

by Bansheesvoice



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Aftercare, Bondage, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, M/M, Shoe Kink, Size Kink, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-03-25 10:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3807439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bansheesvoice/pseuds/Bansheesvoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vincent comes home for chrismas. His mother has an unexpected guest who hides more under his Cassock then what meets the eye-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On his way

**Author's Note:**

> First off: this fic is going to be my first real multichapter fic and the first that exists in my head in its entirety. Expect an update every week.  
> Unbetaed, English is not my native Language, so please, feel free to point out my mistakes.
> 
> For Chizu and my girlfriend, who love that Pairing with me and for Amai, who does not know she loves it jet...

The winter holidays were upon them and Vincent was more than happy to be home for the longest night of the year. Weston College was closed over Christmas, students happily filing out of the school doors and into the carriages that drove them to their homes and Family’s. He had already given his well wishes to Dietrich, who was more than happy to be rid of him for two weeks.

 

He waited at the frond entrance for his family coach, sighing when it came into view. The footman jumped down as soon as the coach stopped before Vincent, the dark wood a stark contrast to the white grey heavens and Weston reddish bricks and bowed deeply before the young noble.

 

Vincent nodded at the man and let him hold open the doors for him, before elegantly climbing in. The interior obviously had been redesigned since he last had used the vehicle. Thick, dark red velvet separated him from the outside world and the cold window panes and the walls were lined with new fabric.

 

While the footman got his trunk onto the coach, Vincent looked at his fellow students, running about like Ants. So many of them were mediocre at best, bland and unimportant. It was not arrogance on his part, but fact. Many of them would later lead boring, uneventful lives and deep down, Vincent envied them. Already he knew that he would take up his Mothers title as guard Dog of the Queen.

 

„oh well,“he breathed, just as he heard the reins snap and felt the wheels under him turn, „at least I shall not be bored...“

\- - -

The drive home was uneventful to Vincent. He looked out of the window and watched London dribble past the foggy pane. While he was warm a comfortable, many peasants were starving and freezing outside. He pitied them, but his family was doing as good by these people as they could. His mother was a name in many philanthropic circles and he planed to be the same. But still, he suffering on the streets was inconsequential. He was used to it, like he was used to the strange circles of low life around his mother.

 

One man in particular hat been holding his interest for quite some time now. Everybody called him „Undertaker“. A tall man, with silvery white hair that was longer than his mothers, who hid his eyes under long bangs. He was a mortician in London, as far as Vincent knew. His clothes or rather robes, certainly looked like it. It was some kind of modified priest cloak tat covered the man from neck to feet. The stiff collar and flowing Fabrics didn't even give a hint on what kind of body the man hid underneath and the future earl had learned early on to never trust someone he couldn't gauge.

 

But his Mother liked him. Claudia was never an overly warmhearted women. Sure, Vincent knew his Mothers softer sides but she was never like that with anybody other then himself. He was her Son, she loved him. So, when he saw how her eyes glinted at Undertakers jokes, when she didn't slap him for kissing her hand in greeting or when she didn't glare at him quite as harshly, Vincent was curious. He wanted to understand what made the man special at a women like his mother…

 

He was intrigued. From all of the dangerous men his mother kept in her company, this one seemed so harmless and often downright nice for someone who dealed with corpses all Day… there had to be more to him. Unfortunately. Since he was attending school. He barely got to see any of his mothers associates and he was almost certain that he would not see the man before the year ended.

 

\- - -

The coach rolled onto the roundel before Phantomhive Manor and Vincent stretched in his seat. The front was decorated with pine and tinsel and you could see that Christmas was near. The servants had polished everything and Vincent could be certain that there would be a ball in the next few days. He waited until the footman opened the door for him before stepping down and taking a great lung full of air. Wood-polish, gunpowder and Francis perfume greeted him. He was finally home.

 


	2. Finally Home

His sister and mother where sitting in the Parlor, having tea. over the course of the two months he had been in London, his Mother had obviously redecorated more than the coach. The corridor to the Parlor had gotten new wallpapers and the new furnishings were a darker Wood. Gas lamps hung on the walls and a new Painting took its fair share of the left wall, opposite of the high windows.   
  
He opened the glass doors and walked over to his mother, to kiss her in greeting.   
"Mother, I have returned." he said with a smile and kissed her on both cheeks. Claudia Phantomhive smiled up at her heir and tugged him down with a delighted "Vincent! Finally!"   
  
Francis was wearing a dark earth colored assemble with a high collar that made her look older than she was, so Vincent leaned down and dusted her cheeks with kisses until she giggled and slapped him playfully for being impossible.  
  
"Sit down, boy, sit" his mother urged gently, "tell us, how was school? Tanaka, tea for Vincent, if you will!" Vincent sad beside his sister and took her hand to kiss it before settling into the ornamented stool. Francis glared playfully at him while the Butler bowed slightly to his mother and skillfully fixed him a cup of fine earl Grey.  
  
"My studies come along just fine and the other students are rather pleasant." he supplied softly, smiling. "Means you are bored out of your mind and the others are to terrified to bother you." Francis supplied dry, to which Vincent nearly inhaled his Tea. Claudia chuckled softly and soon, the whole Tea set was shaking because they where laughing so hard.   
  
After that, the conversation stayed lighthearted. Vincent talked about school, Francis talked about her fencing and Claudia talked about nothing in particular. When the Phantomhives where between themselves, property was hardly something to survive and so the future Earl shared a few of the juicer pieces of mischief and gossip from school while his sister mercilessly ripped apart her "competition", who in her eyes, where to slow, to weak and all-in-all, incompetent.  
  
\- - -  
  
"I noticed you redecorated, mother," Vincent piped up when the Tea was finally getting cold, "is there an occasion?" Claudia looked at his sister, then back at him and smiled pleasantly. “nothing of concern, Darling, I just felt the house needed ab bit of new flair..” Vincent wanted to pry but Francis got up, shook out her skirts ad sighed, ”I have lessons to attend to, do excuse me.” Vincent looked after her as she left the Parlor and sighed as well. Claudia looked at him pointedly. “She is not well at the moment. A young noble asked to marry her and I think she quite fancies him. It weights on her, not to be able to shake it off.” she smiled and looked quite pleased. “It was what I hoped for, to get her to find someone she likes. Hes going to be the next head of the royal knights. A true gentleman, a true swordsmen and someone who fits her quite well, personality wise.”

 

Vincent nodded and smiled. Being nearly 18, his sister was expected to marry in the near future. “You are talking about the Midfort heir. I know him from school. A true gentleman, indeed.” a bit on the boring site to Vincent’s taste, but a great match for his Sister indeed. “When do you plan to announce it?”

 

“We are holding a Ball in two days.” His mother told him, her eyes sparkling, “I plan of announcing it then. It's a charity event I have been planing for weeks. I can do some good, Announce their engagement and do some … business... at the same time” She crossed her legs and leaned her head onto her hand, a pose that would look ridiculous on any other woman but made her seem so dangerous that the young Phantomhive was very glad she was on his side. “may I inquire what kind of business we are talking about?” he asked quietly. His mother had made it very clear that he would inherit her Title as guard dog and she had allowed him to help fulfill her Majesty's wishes on occasion. It exited him greatly every time and he quite enjoyed it. Lady Phantomhive regarded her son coolly. “the kind you enjoy, apparently. Some of my more unruly associates will attend. You can talk to them but be careful, Vincent.” her voice took on a hard note,”those men are dangerous. Never get to close to them, even if you think they can't do anything to harm you, they are still collared wolves, not Dogs.”

 

Vincent nodded his understanding, but he had to wonder. Was Undertaker really a dangerous man? He seemed so friendly, almost gentle, the few times they had briefly talked and his mother seemed to be at ease around him. “What about the Undertaker?” Vincent wondered aloud, which go him an angry look from his mother, but he couldn't help it.” He seems different from your other Underlings. Soft spoken, polite, almost friendly. One has to wonder what hes hiding?” he crooked his head to the side and regarded her carefully. Claudia huffed and crossed her arms. “he is a different kind of dangerous. He will be unlikely to slit your throat, but he is still not trustworthy.” “but… you seem to trust him...” Vincent murmured, unsure. His mothers brows knit together. “Vincent. Undertaker and I have worked together for nearly two decades. Still, I know what he is capable of and just how dangerous he really can be. I like him quite well and his ways are slightly less screwed than most of my other men, he still is, however one of them. Do not underestimate someone just for his attitude.”

 

“I know that!” Vincent was quick to assure. “I was not questioning whether or not I should be careful around him. But He's different. It makes me curious, that’s all. I'm not letting my guard down around any of them, do not worry.” His mother relaxed slightly and carted her fingers trough her hair, a nervous gesture she had never quite lost. “You are clever and your judgment is very keen when it comes to people. But he allays messes with that. I have found myself telling him things on times, he has a way to mess with your judgment. Be very careful.”

Vincent rose and Claudia did the same, smiling softly at her son. “I will, Mother, be unconcerned.” he assured her her and took her arm. Leading her out of the Parlor, his thoughts reeling around the mortician. He would get to see him before new year, what a pleasant surprise…

 

– - -

The days seemed to crawl by, even trough he got to spend them with his beloved Sister. As harsh and unyielding as Francis could be, she was very dear to Vincent. Their fathers death, the burdens of being Phantomhive children, all this had brought them close to each other and Vincent enjoyed his sisters quick wit and sharp tongue. But Francis was a mess. She was, quite plainly, deeply in love with the young Midford lord and that made her nervous. Vincent tried to smooth her frayed nerves, but she was quite inconsolable. Everything, from her dress for the ball to the decor was not to her liking and she could barely be still. He finally left her to her fencing, which never failed to help her relax.

 

Vincent choose his clothes for the Ball carefully. Dark blue wool tweet with lace at his neck and wrists, a brocade vest and silk shirt underneath. He thought it looked fine and Tanaka approved of the assemble, reassuring him that he would be fancied by any lady. “If it was a lady's fancy I sought...” he thought to himself,” but I rather would find a mans secrets...”

\- - -

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no Undertaker. but he will be there in the next chapter, I promise! I love how this grows steadily and it is such fun and relieve to write it! :)


	3. Chapter 3

\- - -  
It was just after five o clock when the first guests arrived. The young earl was not surprised to see that the Midfords where among the first. He was expected to greed the Guests with his mother, before the Butler led them into the dining hall, where aperitifs could be taken. He smiled and shook hands and watched for his mothers Associates. A few of them came with the regular guests trough the frond door, but Vincent was aware that a good portion of them would use the back entrance. 

They were just about trough with the regular guests, when a broad hand came up from behind him and covered his eyes. Vincent was gently tugged against a lean, hard chest and hot breath caressed his cheek. A slight shiver run over his skin when a warm baritone full of laughter whispered directly into his ear:

“guess who, little Earl.”

Vincent leaned slightly against him and heard his mother huff. “um… Jeffrey?” he joked, to witch the Undertaker tutted, his long nails touching his neck ever so softly. 

“Wrong! Try again.”

“Undertaker...” His mothers voice sounded more exasperated then he had heard her in a long time. The mortician let him go and bowed deeply before his mother. The earl noticed that he had forgone his sash and cape tonight, only clad in the long, button down cloak that made him look ethereal, somehow. He looked elegant, slender and tall and oh so alluring. Vincent shook himself out of a slight daze and swallowed hard. He had never found the man quite this… attractive. This body, tall and slender as it was, was mouthwatering.

“oh well, close enough.” He joked and smiled at the mortician. “Good evening to you, Undertaker.”

“My my, it seems I look away for one second and the little ankle-biter turns into quite the young man. Good evening to you to, Phantomhive.” Undertaker all but purred, smiling sunnyly at Vincent. His hidden eyes traveled over Vincent's trim shape. Quite the man indeed. Last he had seen the boy, he had been stuck in a grown spurt, but now, months later, his body had filled out nicely. Lean, elegant and still smaller then himself.

It was Vincent's turn to huff at the man and he moved slightly away. He had known Undertaker all his live and the man loved to make fun of his attics as a Child. He would never live it down.

His mother looked angrily at the man and shook her head. “stop molesting my boy and get in there, before I forget myself! Honestly, you are here but five minutes and are already impossible!”

Undertaker laughed, bowed again and slipped into the Dining hall, before Claudia could slap him…

\- - -  
the guests were all there, the ball in full swing. People danced and drunk and talked among them. His mother fluttered about, talking to any and all of her guests, with effortless grace. Her associates mingled with the guests, most of them looking so ordinary that they hardly registered. 

Still, even trough he talked with guests, danced with the lady’s and subtly got information his mother might find useful, the Teens eyes always found Undertaker. 

It was hard to miss him, really. He was taller then all other men in the room and his hip length silver-hair could hardly be missed. Still, it felt like something was drawing his eyes towards the man, like his awareness was so tuned to him that he had hardly any chance but notice him.

More then once he thought about going to him, to go over and have a chat, but his own eagerness stopped him. He wanted something he did not understand and that alone kept him at bay. 

At precisely ten o'clock his mother gardered their guests. Vincent came to her and smiled. Francis was so nervous it was adorable.

"Ladies and Gentleman! Thank you all so much for coming here tonight.  
Trough your gracious donations, we have raised 5000 pounds for the white road children hospital. I thank you in their name, as well as mine." polite clapping was in order. Vincent saw from the corner of his eyes, that Undertaker was right beside him. He shivered slightly.

"However," his mothers voice rose easily above the clapping, " that is not the only announcement I have for you tonight."

Alexis took Francis Hand, smiled at her and took a step forward. He looked immaculate in a charcoal suit and Francis held his hand in a white knuckled grip. “The future Marquis Midford has asked for my Daughter Francis hand in marriage. We are proud to announce that they will marry in March.” This time, the cheers were far more eager and sincere them before. Vincent felt Undertaker move beside him and tried to ignore it. Francis was flocked by other young ladies and some of his peers were congratulating Alexis. 

Vincent moved over to them and clapped his future brother -in -law on the shoulder. “I'd tell you not to hurt her,” he said jokingly, “but that shan't be necessary. My Sister is quite capable of castrating you herself. If you give her reason to, we Phantomhives will stand by and cheer her on.” The others were laughing on what they thought a joke, but Alexis understood all to well that it was a promise. “Be unconcerned, I will love her wit all my heart.” he murmured to Vincent, his cheeks dusted pink.

\- - -

After the announcement, he couldn't find His mother or Undertaker and most of her men were missing as well. The ball was winding down and he had resigned to not seeing his Mortician again. Vincent decided to go to bed. On his way to his rooms, down the west wing of the manor, there were many guest rooms. He nearly walked past them without a second glance, but… one of the doors wasn't closed and he had seen a sliver of silver, hadn't he?

Stopping, he turned to the door and peeked trough the gap. What he saw would, as he learned that evening, change him forever….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger ;D  
> Well, next chapter will get hot, I promise!


	4. in the half light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long, Vincent and unddie did not want to cooperate...

There were no gas lamps lit, only the open heart send a warm glow of ambers into the guestroom. One of the servants had stacked wood for a new fire, but the logs had jet to ignite.

Undertaker was standing with his back to the door, body slightly bowed over the washbasin at the food of the bed. He had abandoned his cassock at a chair in the corner and was wearing only a black button down with his sleeves rolled up, indecently tight trousers and... 

Boots.

They were held in place by straps and buckles and hugged the entirety of his slender legs up to his mid thighs. The leader was black and well kept and Vincent could not understand why his collar was suddenly to tight.

Undertaker was washing blood from his white skin. It was startling to see the pink water flowing from his wrist and palm and into the porcelain bowl. Had there been a fight? Was his mother alright?

Before he could say or do anything, Undertaker whipped around and cleared his troat rather roughly.

“can I help you, little Earl?” 

his voice was a little scratchy, like he had shouted a lot and Vincent took a deep breath and stepped into the room. “Are you bleeding?” Vincent asked in a unusual small voice, trying and failing to look the man in the eye. 

“Do not concern yourself, I am fine.” Undertaker mumbled and then smiled softly at him. “as is your dear Lady mother. Just a minor… inconvenience we needed to take care of.” 

the Teenager let out the breath he had been holding and smiled at the man, glad that no harm had come to those he considered his.

“Ah, very well. I'll leave you to it then.” Vincent inclined his head and started to turn around when Undertakers hand shot out and tugged him further into the room. 

“Really now! The night is still young and we have such a joyous occasion to celebrate! Come now, sit and take a glass with me! I have not seen you in months! How are your study’s coming along?” 

Totally out of his depth, Vincent let himself be lead to the plush chairs next to the heart and sat down heavily, while Undertaker took a bottle of Cognac out of the little cabinet in the wardrobe. The younger remembered that the Mortician always had the same room when he stayed here. His mothers warning words from two days ago resourced in his ears but he reasoned, it would be rude to leave now, so he got comfortable. Undertaker posed no thread. “well, one Glass. I have to be presentable in the morning or mother will have both our heads.” Undertaker snickered and brought him an inch of the dark liquor. 

“well, we can't have that, now, can we?” he smiled and clicked his gals against Vincent’s, “It would not do to get you into a situation were your mother might spank you, would it?”

Vincent flushed. Heat rushed from his face, down his neck and tingled in his stomach. The soft, melodic voice, the way he had said it. Like he was suggesting that he would enjoy doing that to Vincent, tugging him over his lap and slap his ass. Vincent shivered and took a sip of his drink, coughing a little at the strong burn, “no,” he rasped, “that would not do, my friend.”

Undertaker smiled, deeply satisfied. He crossed his legs and leaned his head onto his fist, a pose he knew Vincent often took himself. The boy was a true beauty and his innocence was delectable. When had that adorable little ankle-biter turned into this fawn-like Creature before him?

“ah, your future Wife is to envy, truly my lord...” he purred, “You blush so pretty.”

Vincent looked at him, puzzled and laughed. “I am not sure if you try to flatter or insult me, old Man.” he leaned forward, graceless copying Undertakers stance, and smiled at him in a way that was nearly lecherous. He was playing and although he did not fully understand the rules, the way this felt was not unlike what he did with Dietrich. “are you calling me girly to my face?”

“No, nothing like that.” Undertakers smile widened a notch. “ I am able to call a man Beautiful without feeling any damage to pride or property. You don't care if an artwork is masculine of feminine in his lines when you make such a judgment, why shall Humans be treated differently?”

Vincent could not help but smile and stroke his fingers nervously trough his hair. “As always, you are right. A compliment then, Thank you kindly for such generous words. But I would rather not blush at all, if I'm honest. Mother tells me I give away to much.”

“Oh? Well, I hear getting in embarrassing situations is the best cure for that.” Undertaker told him lightly, jokingly. “Well my Earl, shall we properly embarrass you?”

When he leaned forward and smiled at Vincent, I all his statuesque beauty, Vincent got up, leaned into Undertakers personal Space and kissed that infuriating Smile right of his lips.


	5. Go big or go home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long, but here it is! Finally!

For a moment, everything went quiet. Their breaths stilled, no move was made. Vincent had ten seconds to understand that he had made a terrible mistake before Undertaker began to shake. Vincent moved back to apologize when he heard the older man's rumbling laugh. The bastard had the gall to laugh at him!  
“well, at least our guest is properly entertained!” Vincent grumbled and tried to move away.

“Ahh, very, lad.” His fingers drove into his hair and Vincent swallowed when hie lifted his head and smiled, like a feline who had got the canary. His thump stroked this cheek, down to his jawline and under his chin and he was gently coaxed to lift his head and look into the most stunning eyes he had ever seen. Green, no… gold green? He could not place the color properly. He was transfixed, mesmerized. How could any human have such gorgeous eyes?

“you… are not human.” Vincent breathed.

“very good, boy.” the mortician whispered against this lips, his fingers cold on his skin.”I am death incarnated and you, Phantomhive, should go to bed and forget, before your pretty face makes me forget British etiquette.” he giggled and released him, leaning back. 

The young lord stood there. He should run, he knew. Undertaker was not entirely joking and this was dangerous. He should turn tail and flee. But he couldn't. He wanted, yearned, for this man, to show him. The darkness behind those beautiful orbs, the hardness of a mans body, the breaks of “British etiquette” his hands could bring him, everything.

“if I choose not to forget...” Vincent locked eyes with the taller man, shivering at his inhuman gaze, “what would you do to me?”

“hah...” Undertaker stood gracefully, no trace of his usual persona left, “I would ravish you, take you apart with touch and words and put you back together with kisses and strokes, my dear.”he paused and shook his head. “Oh, look at you, you old fool! Claudia would have my head on a platter, where she to witness this! See what you do to me, lad. I nearly did something really dangerous. Like...” he shook his head as if to clear it. “ you should go and sleep my boy, it seems I had a drink to much and am very unfit company tonight.”

Vincent flushed down to his breast and shook his head. “No… Please...” he whispered and reached for the older. “I would want that… very much. Damn what my mother would say. Please Undertaker….”

The older looked at him with a pained expression. “you did not listen to me, Lad. I am Death.” he moved close to Vincent and took his biceps, shaking him lightly,”I am not a creature whose touch you should crave. Go to bed, seek consolance with your comrades at your school.”

But Vincent Phantomhive was not a boy who was afraid of death, it seemed. He smiled and shook his head. “No, sir. I shall do none of that. How could I hope to forget your gaze, my friend? How could I forget such sweet words of passion? Let me die a little death, in your arms, Undertaker.”

with a huff he let go of the Phantomhive and brought distance between the two of them. “no, Boy. Go to bed.” he growled and moved to stand by the window. Cool air for his stupid old head. The younger sighed and let his shoulders drop, dejected. He had lost his chance it seemed. 

“I understand. Good night, Undertaker.”   
The sound of footsteps, then blessed silence. Undertaker sighed as well. 

“Goodnight, Vincent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the hot stuff is coming shortly... he he.


	6. into the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter took forever! It refused to turn out as I wanted but at least now we have a transition between the drama and the fun part.

Chrismas came and went without much notice from the young earl. His gifts were accepted, he unwrapped his without any passion and claimed to be unwell when his mother asked about it.  
Undertaker's words haunted him and he could not forget those short moments of passion when he had believed the other to be as smitten with him as he was with his mortician.

His mother tried to get him to talk, Francis tried, but he was inconsolable. He wanted, yearned, wished and cursed but it was impossible. He could not forget, could not keep that night out of his thoughts, out of his dreams. On the night after Christmas he could not take it any longer. In the middle of the night, he tiptoed out of his room and down to the stables. He,Vincent tough to himself while readying his favorite horse, was a Phantomhive. He did neither fear death nor law and he would get the man to talk this trough with him, all hell be damned!

He lead Thaddeus, his raven horse, from the stables down the path to the mansion and mounted him out of sight, then gave him the signal. His trusty mount whined softly and trotted away, carrying him of into the dark. When the house was far enough he took out an oil lantern to shed a little light on the dark path before him. Riding at night was dangerous, but what choice did he have, really? He needed to speak with him. 

The path to London city was dark and silent but Vincent moved on, until he could see the street lanterns. He moved his -horse trough the outskirts and tried to keep to the dirt parts and of cobblestones lest the patrolling officers hear him and got him into trouble for breaking curfew.

It took a while to get to the street were the mortician had his shop, the dark building lay silently before him, all windows were dark, cold and the slight mist from the streets gave the scene a haunting feeling. swallowing heavily, he moved down from the horse and bound him to a post near the workshop. 

he walked over to the door and took a deep breath and knocked on the dark wood. it took all his willpower not to run away .after a few minutes that felt more like years, the door opened a sliver and undertakers tired and wary face came into view.

"What in the blazes are you doing here? it is past the witching hour." Undertaker all but growled and opened the door wider to tug Vincent trough. Inside was even darker then on the street were at least a lantern burned but the shop was only illuminated by a single candle- everything was warped in shadows and gloom.

"I came to see you," Vincent murmured softly and looked at undertaker. The older looked at him sharply, then sighed and took the candle and gestured for Vincent to follow him. he led him trough the dark shop to a tiny sitting room were the coals were still glowing in the hearth. Undertaker threw two pieces of firewood into them and took the poker to get the fire burning again. he threw himself into one of the old seats and gestured Vincent to take the other. He was still in his day clothes and Vincent wondered what he had been doing when his voice cut trough the air, "well? what business brings you to me, in the middle of the night and well past curfew?"

Vincent steeled himself and begun speaking: "I thought a lot about our meeting at mothers ball, no let me speak, please- and I do not care what you are. the last few days, all I could think of was you. I wanted you so much, craved your touch, your voice, your secrets and I do not care. Don't send me away, don't treat me like a child." he carefully moved over to the very interested looking mortician and took his face in his hands, pressing the softest of kisses to his cheek. "Take me apart and put me back together. Please..." 

Undertaker shook his had and slammed his hand onto the side table beside his chair and stood up. “None of that, lad!” he growled angrily and tried to move past Vincent, who was a little shocked at the outburst. “ You do not know what you are asking for!” 

“Then show me!” Vincent growled just as fierce and stood his ground, chest to chest with the Man. “Show me what you want to do with me, show me what kind of man you are. Show me... “The last words were a whisper against his skin and Undertaker shivered in delight. The Lad was so brash and willing, how could he withstand? He was just a man in this regard...

“Very well..” he whispered into Vincent's ear, “come with me. I'll show you...”  
They moved trough a doorway on the left, into the dark bedroom...


	7. the fun begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here you have the forplay. Please be aware that all of this is written in the spirit of safe, sane, consentual and is rather vanilla. after all, Vincent is new to any of this. Enjoy!

Undertaker took the candle to the bedside table and sat down on the mattress. “You really want this, lad? I am not going to give you another chance to leave.” His eyes gleamed in the semi darkness .

“Show me.” Vincent said again and moved closer . Undertaker grinned and tutted at Vincent. “Not so fast, boy... Close the door.” Vincent turned around and did as he was told, closing the door and locking it for good measure. Wen he tried to move, a heavy body pressed him against it.  
“ah ah ah, draw the key please.”  
Vincent did as he was told and Undertaker kissed his cheek, laughing softly. “good Boy, you are able to follow directions!” He took the key from his hand and turned him softly around, so that his back pressed against the wood. 

“as long as I am in possession of this key, you are mine.” Undertaker purred into Vincents skin.”I can do whatever I want with you. Do you agree, Vincent?” His voice was soft and he carefully nuzzled the side of his neck.

Vincent shuddered at the use of his given name from the other man and nodded enthusiastically. “Whatever you want.” 

Undertaker smiled and took a step back. “Alright, lad. Strip.”

Vincent stood there for mere seconds before his hands started to undo the buttons of his fine wool coat. His cravat followed strait, both articles landing on the carpet. His hands shook in excitement wen he drew his shirt up and started to undo the tiny pearl buttons one by one. Undertakers eyes followed his trembling fingers hungrily, drawing a shaky breath from his throat. When he opened the last button, he let his shirt fall to the ground as well. Then he kicked of his boots and started at his trousers, slowly undoing the fastenings and let them slide down his legs, finally stepping out of them. He stood before his mortician, bare and shivering. 

Undertaker stood there, his eyes gleaming, and took in the naked boy before him. Lean muscles  
under flawless cream colored skin, dusted with freckles. He took two measured steps toward Vincent and took his arms to lead him to the stool that stood at the food of his bed. Vincent sat down, unsure what the other wanted, when his hands guided Vincent's to the fastenings of his robe. Vincent swallowed and started to undo his outer cloak. "good boy.” He murmured and took Vincent's hands in his. He stroked over the ridges and dips, warming the cool fingers in his. Then he shrugged out of his cassock , revealing the same kind of clothes he had worn that evening. Vincent's eyes traveled along his body, along the plain shirt, over his trousers and his obvious hardness to his tight-high boots. The belts that held them up were warped snugly around his legs and down to his ankles. They fascinated Vincent in a way he did not understand...

“well, Time to have a little fun, right?” Undertaker had shed his silly persona like his clothes, his voice smooth and deep. He took one of the belts from his left boot and tugged it free of the loops slowly, while Vincent watched transfixed.”if at any point this gets too much snap you fingers twice, got it?” The young earl nodded, “Snapping twice, got it.”He murmured.

The long nails of the mortician stroked down his arms to his elbows and further to his wrists. He took them gently in one hand and started to wrap the belt tightly around his wrists and forearms, then he closed the buckle. Tight enough to leave marks, Undertaker noted satisfied, but still lose enough so Vincent could not hurt himself to badly. 

“There we go, nice and snug!”his hands stroked slowly over the bindings, “have you been a naughty lad? “He purred at Vincent and giggled “Oh yes, you have, haven't you?” He took out a hairband and swiped his hair up into a lazy ponytail. Then he moved in between his spread legs and started to roam Vincent's skin, starting at his shoulders and stroking down his chest, across his nipples and over his rips, down to his navel in languid strokes. His hands roamed up and down, along his arms and back, studying every inch of skin, exploring everything, slowly kindling the low flame of arousal in his gut. 

His hands slowly worked his way lower, to the building erection the younger could do nothing to hide. When undertaker grasped the smooth shaft, Vincent bit back a moan which made the older laugh. “Come now, Lad... nobody can hear you besides me, moan and groan all you like.” he went onto his knees in front of him and started stroking him head to base.  
His free hand went to his left nipple and twisted the little nub while he stoked him slowly up and down, twisting with every down-stroke. Vincent gasped softly and looped his arms around his companions neck, trying to keep his composure - Never had he been touched like that and the size of undertakers fingers and Palm did strange things to his gut. He felt on fire and dozed in ice at the same time, everything was great and frightening, too much and to little at once.

“Do you what to know what I'm going to do with you?” the older whispered into his ear,”I'm going to make you so hot you will want nothing but release and keep you there, right at the edge,” He bit softly into the shell of his ear,” and I only let you come when I'm inside of you, when you can feel every inch of me.”He giggled and started to massage Vincent's Penis more firmly.”I'm doing this so you will remember this night forever. You won't be able to forget me until the day you die.”

He leaned forward and started kissing him. His mouth was hot and demanding, stealing the young earls breath away. His hand kept stroking, kindling the flame without bringing the release Vincent so desperately wanted. Giggling, he disentangled from Vincent and stood. He slowly undid his clothes in front of the dazed youngster, sensually letting them drop to the floor. 

“Now, do you want more?” he asked teasingly while Vincent could only not, transfixed by the white flesh before him. Undertaker was fit but slim and so much bigger then Vincent. His erection stood proud in a nest of white curls, longer but slimmer then his. Undertaker grinned wickedly and took Vincent's bound hands to hurl him up. Then, he shoved him carefully onto the bed...  
\---

**Author's Note:**

> Love it? hate it?


End file.
